


Anchored

by Medeafic



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Dirty Talk, Docking, Hair-pulling, M/M, Oral Sex, Painplay, Past Underage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quasi-infidelity, References to other/past partners, Tears, mild choking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 02:20:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1965270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medeafic/pseuds/Medeafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the Pinto Kink Meme. Prompt: <a href="http://pintokinkmeme.livejournal.com/925.html?thread=202141#t202141">Docking. Chris is curious, Zach is uncut. However you see fit. Uh.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Anchored

_Why’d they wait so long? Why, why, why?_

He must've said it out loud, because Zach's stopped sucking at his neck, and is looking at him, forehead pressed into Chris’s and his eyes dark. “This is just a one-off, right?” Zach murmurs.

“Oh, yeah. Totally. For sure,” Chris pants. A little white lie never hurt anyone. They’re bare-chested already, in the middle of Chris’s hotel room, and Chris hasn’t wanted something so bad since a _long_ time ago.

Zach says: “Because, you know. We’re mostly open, but we have rules about fucking people we _know_ and—”

“Oh, yeah. Totally. For sure.”

Zach winces. “Can you not? With the Valley Girl speak?" 

“Can _you_ not? With the boyfriend?”

“Touché.”

“And fuck you.” Chris savages his mouth, sucking on Zach’s tongue like he’s Hannibal Lecter or something, and goddamn, slow down. He’s gotta slow down. If this performance is one night only, he needs to savor it. So he breaks away and says, “One-off. Agreed. To assuage my curiosity.”

“And you are _so_ curious,” Zach says, and finally he’s back into it, not that dorky, caring guy who bought a stupid souvenir from the hotel lobby for his boyfriend, but the other guy. The one who talked up the wonders of a foreskin until Chris demanded he put his money where his mouth was. Or his dick, anyway. Or someone’s dick and someone’s mouth…he’s not entirely sure what they negotiated out, because his cock’s too hard for him to engage short-term memory, but it’s all good so far. 

“Take your pants off,” Chris demands.

“Take _your_ pants off, Padawan.”

“Jesus, can you not with that either? No lightsaber jokes. No sci-fi at all. Banned.” He’s pulling off his jeans while he rattles out words. They don’t mean anything, all those words. Any of them. Those words they played with on tour and threw at each other and used up. Empty.

What has meaning is this, now; the way Chris’s dick is flushed and ready without the smallest contact. 

“Nice,” Zach says appreciatively. He cradles it like he’s inspecting it, running a hand under to cup Chris’s ballsack.

“Yeah?” Chris knows he has girth, but he’s always wondered if his length might be lacking. The seal of approval from a gay man is not something he previously realized was missing in his life, but suddenly it’s all-consumingly important.

“Yeah. I like them thick like that.” Zach’s still fondling him, and still clothed.

“Now _that’s_ interesting.” Chris pulls at Zach’s waistband, undoing the button on his jeans. “I always figured you for a toppy-top type.” He unzips Zach’s fly. 

Zach’s look of patient amusement would be infuriating if he weren’t giving Chris a slow rub at the same time. “One can be a ‘toppy-top type’ and still enjoy a big dick. Nice mouth feel. You know?”

“I don’t, actually,” Chris says, ending on a grunt. “That’s the point. Of this. Whole thing. Goddamn it, did you spray these on?” He couldn’t get these fucking jeans off with a jackhammer.

Zach calmly peels them down. He’s not wearing any underwear. “It’s all in the hips,” he says. His cock comes out, a great big handful of it, only half hard, big and uncut with a slump of skin at the end framing a ridge Chris thinks he could break his teeth on. 

“Fuck me,” Chris breathes.

“That wasn’t the deal,” Zach says, and he’s mostly kidding, but slightly not. 

Chris glances up at his face. Sure, he remembers what the deal was now. Mouths only. And that thing Zach said he could do, that thing Chris is so curious about. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t _want_ that monster pushing inside me.”

Zach snorts. “Ass virgins,” he says. “So delicate.”

“Jesus, Zachary, I have doubts that thing’ll fit inside my _mouth_ , let alone my rectum. And anyway, like you said…” He reaches out for it. It’s warm and soft in his hand. “That wasn’t the deal.” He gives an experimental tug, and the foreskin slides with his hand. “Oh, _wow_.”

Zach grabs a handful of his hair and tugs him in for a kiss. “I should do this with straight boys more often,” he says afterwards. “It’s proving to be excellent for my self-esteem.”

They stand there with their hands on each others’ dicks for a few minutes, exploring like they’re fourteen year old neighbors comparing what their cocks can do, and finding out how good it feels when someone else touches it.   
  
God. Chris hasn’t thought about that for  _years_. The dirty-bad-hot feeling makes his stomach clench, and he gasps.   
  
But something strikes him.   
  
“You sure you can do it? I mean, impressive specimen and all, but this is kinda…tight.” He gives a gentle pull at Zach’s foreskin, and it makes his balls burn to watch it close over that red, slick head, but it doesn’t come so far over as he’d expected.   
  
Not so far over as Zach has been bragging about.  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” Zach tells him, concentrating on Chris’s cock. He’s rubbing a persistent thumb across Chris’s slit, encouraging it to spill, and spreading the wet around his head. “Just needs to warm up a little.”  
  
“So what do I do?” Chris asks. “Like, let’s get this show on the road.”  
  
“You’re the opposite of a sensualist, aren’t you?” But Zach takes his cock back from Chris’s hand and starts to jerk it himself slowly, dragging the skin down further with each pull. He’s hard now; didn’t take long, and Chris palms his own cock while he watches. “You want to join in?”  
  
Chris swallows. “Sure, yeah. What should I…”  
  
“You can blow me. Get it nice and wet in that pretty mouth and then suck at it. Helps it stretch, and gets me dripping. Better that way.”  
  
“Okay.” He says okay. He hasn’t had a cock in his mouth since he was nineteen years old and his roommate’s gay brother showed up early for a visit. That cock was not like this cock. That cock was perky and cute and as clean-cut as the preppy boy attached to it. But okay.  
  
Chris gets on his knees.   
  
This cock is dark and imposing and redolent of sex and lust and need. He sticks out his tongue and gives a tentative lick at the head, avoiding the slit for now. Just in case he has a big gay freakout at the taste of Zach’s precome, and spoils the mood.  
  
“Is that how your girlfriends give head?” Zach asks, amused.  
  
“Uh, fuck you very much. They have all been talented and enthusiastic young ladies, I’ll have you know.”  
  
“So follow their lead. I told you to suck my dick, not twitch your tongue at it.”  
  
“You always this bossy?” Chris growls at him, and stuffs the head in his mouth. It’s huge, like a goddamn jawbreaker, only soft and silky smooth in texture. And pungent, but in a good way. A  _very_  good way. Chris tries to suck his lips back to cover his teeth out of the way, but only succeeds in making Zach hiss and mutter something rude about piranhas. He backs right off, drooling a little, and stares at it again. “Sorry. It’s just really fucking big, man.”  
  
“Flatterer,” Zach says, and smiles.   
  
Chris tries again, and he gets it right this time, or at least better, and he even gets a few inches down. It’s uncomfortable and his jaw aches already, and he feels a whole new appreciation for the women who have done this to him in the past. But he starts to get into a rhythm, and it gets easier. He’s still mostly suckling on the head of it, and there’s a line of spit running down his chin, but Zach’s lips have parted and he has a glazed look in his eyes. He’s watching every movement Chris makes, one hand on the back of his head.  
  
“That’s it,” he says. “That’s right, baby. Take it like that.”   
  
Just a hint of dirty talk, but it fires Chris up, makes his cock throb, so he really applies himself to his task, twisting his fist around the base and shoving his face down until he gags, and even  _that_  Zach seems to really like. Chris splutters for a moment, but he keeps his composure, and he keeps up the hand job while he catches his breath. He can see the foreskin start to stretch more, just like Zach said it would. When he pulls it forward, it makes a cocoon around Zach’s head, and he sticks out his tongue to wriggle it in there.  
  
“Good,” Zach groans.   
  
Chris pulls back and says, “Talk. More. Like that.”

The curl of Zach’s lips isn’t quite a smile. He yanks Chris forward by the hair, pushing into his mouth. “Yeah, you love it. You’re a natural born cocksucker, you know that? I could fuck your face for days, Pine. That pink mouth, stretched tight. Perfect hole.”  
  
Chris hums around his head, tries to deep-throat, ends up gagging again.  
  
“That’s right, choke on it. You like suffocating yourself on my dick? I like watching you.” Zach runs a hand down to grasp his neck. “I’d like to stuff you full and fuck you like this, with my hand around your throat so I could feel my cock in you. Feel you struggling.” With his other hand, he thumbs through a tear escaping from the corner of Chris’s eye, and sucks at it.   
  
Chris pulls off, coughing, tears streaming from his eyes now. “Fuck, man,” he croaks. “I think I’d  _let_  you.”  
  
Zach grins. “Of course you would,” he says confidently: a man who knows any sexual request he makes will be fulfilled. Chris feels envy thrill through him. “That’s enough, though; I’m ready. You ready?”  
  
“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Chris lets Zach help him stand, his cock flapping around embarrassingly, still iron-hard and dripping. Zach grasps it in his big hand—it’s so weird, his hands feel so  _big_ —and stops.  
  
“Hm,” he says.  
  
“What?” Chris asks anxiously. Is his dick not—not  _something_  enough for this to work?  
  
“I thought this might not work,” Zach says, confirming Chris’s greatest fears. “Not standing, anyway, ’cause you have stumpy legs. But it looks okay. We should line up okay.”  
  
Relief makes Chris ignore the insult. “So do I need to do anything, or…?”   
  
Zach looks faintly surprised at the lack of comeback. “No, just, like, keep yourself hard. As long as you can.”  
  
“As long as I can? What’s that mean?”  
  
“It means, because our dicks are gonna touch. Shock, surprise. Historically, I’m guessing touching dicks has not been the biggest turn on for you.”  
  
Chris gives a smug smile to hide the hurt. “Shows what you know.” Why  _does_  it hurt, anyway?  
  
“Okay, well,” Zach says, shaking his head, “I don’t want to know, either. Let’s just do this. You were curious. Here it is: the main event.” He lines them up without preamble, so their heads are butting into each other, slits leaking and the glans sliding across one another.   
  
Chris lets out a deep sigh. “Fuck.”  
  
“Sensitive?”  
  
“Yeah. In a good way.”  
  
Zach grins. “Just you wait. Tug yourself some more.”  
  
They stand there jacking off, concentration binding them together. Chris likes it faster than Zach, apparently, and a lighter touch, too, but he can’t keep his eyes off Zach’s dick: the way his foreskin’s loose and pliable now, the way he’s got two, maybe three finger widths of skin clearing the end of his cock. Chris’s dick is twitching like it does around pussy, like it can sense a warm, welcoming sheath just waiting for it.  
  
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Zach murmurs, and reaches up to grab the back of his neck, kisses him. It’s weird being manhandled like this, Chris thinks. Good-weird.  
  
“Am I?” he asks after the kiss is done.  
  
“Oh, yeah.”  
  
“Tell me again.”  
  
“You’re a needy little bitch,” Zach tells him, and it should piss him off, but it doesn’t. It makes him hotter. He rubs his cockhead down Zach’s length.  
  
“Tell me,” he says.  
  
“Fuck. You’re gorgeous, okay? Beautiful. Get your nipples hard for me.”  
  
Chris croaks something; it’s supposed to be an  _okay_. He pinches at his nipple, the left one since he’s only got his left hand free, and then he thinks how weird it is he didn’t notice Zach whacks off with his left hand just like he writes with his left hand. He never thought about that before.  
  
“Twist it,” Zach says, and Chris obediently twists, grunts. Zach reaches across with his hand to pinch the other one, and Chris mewls. “Yeah, you’re hot like that. Keep doing that.”

Zach drops his hand. He needs two for what he’s doing, rubbing their dicks together so they shine and slip with precome, and smoothing his skin out, stretching it with finesse. He lifts up his hand to spit into it and rubs it over both their glans. “Watch,” he says, but Chris is already watching, can’t look away. Zach lines their dicks up, tip to tip, both slick, and starts sliding his foreskin down, down, down. It’s kissing Chris’s cockhead, ringing him like a mouth.  
  
“Wait,” Chris gasps. Zach freezes. “You’ll make me shoot—just—hang on—”  
  
Zach relaxes at once, but reaches up with one hand to twist Chris’s nipple hard, really hard.   
  
“Fuck!”  
  
“Took your mind off your cock,” Zach says with a shrug. “You ready?”  
  
“Asshole. Yeah. Keep going.”  
  
“Hold it for me. Hold it still.”  
  
Zach brings their slits together again, and Chris holds his cock as still as he can, watches Zach slide his foreskin down, right down, quicker this time so he has no chance to call for a time out, and oh, God. Oh,  _God_.   
  
“Oh, motherfucking  _fuck_.”  
  
“I know, right?” Zach chuckles. Their cocks are bonded. Anchored. Rubbing together, butting into each other and wrapped in Zach’s taut, elastic foreskin. Chris can see the outline of his head as it pushes forward. It’s like he’s fucking Zach’s dick. He  _is_  fucking Zach’s dick. And the way Zach is breathing and making little moans when Chris moves around in that tight space, it’s making his gut clench and his balls tingle.   
  
“Zach.” It’s all he can say. “Zach, oh fuck.  _Zach_.”  
  
“I know, baby,” Zach says, and kisses him. He's jacking them together, pushing their dicks around in the sack they share. “Sometimes I can even come into myself. Can't always do that. It pulls back. But that greedy mouth of yours sucked me so hard, stretched me right out, so I bet I could tonight. Just try to hold on a little while longer, okay? I’m not quite there and I want us both to shoot while we’re—”  
  
“Please—please stop talking,” Chris says desperately. “That sounds great, but it’s not going to happen if you keep telling me what you want to happen because I’m gonna—”  
  
“Eager beaver,” Zach murmurs. “Okay, let’s just stop for a second. Play with your titties again, baby. Make ’em hurt a bit.”  
  
A blush washes over Chris from chest to hairline, but he does as he’s told. Zach seems to get off on it, and it’ll make Chris’s dick behave itself. He hopes.  
  
“See, you don’t mind pain so much,” Zach purrs at him while Chris pinches at his own nipples, eyes screwed shut and face lifting towards the ceiling. “I don’t think you’d mind the pain if I split your ass with my cock.”  
  
Chris’s eyes fly open. “Fuck.”  
  
“That’s what I’m talking about, yeah.” Zach noses at his ear, sucking on the lobe. “I’d get you stretched first, baby, nice and slow, just like you’re stretching out my cockskin tonight. Preparation is almost the hottest part.”  
  
“Zach, you need to—we need to—”  
  
“You wanna fill me up, baby? Is that what you need? Blast in my cock?”  
  
Chris whines, “Yes. Please.”  
  
Zach’s hand starts playing with him immediately, rubbing his foreskin up and down Chris’s length and squeezing their heads together, sliding the sensitive glans against each other. “Oh, yes. That’s hot, you asking politely like that. Can't wait to feel you fill me up, so come on.” Zach grasps Chris by the throat, holding his face up so he has a perfect view. “Come on, baby. Spray me.”  
  
The noise that erupts from Chris takes him by surprise, a guttural groan from deep inside him. His balls draw up and he comes almost involuntarily, soaking himself and Zach in their snug foreskin tent. He feels like he’s bursting; his hot spurts flood the space and start to drip out of the tight sheath.  
  
He holds himself upright somehow and lets Zach keep working at him. It’s not too sensitive yet, but it will be, any second, if Zach doesn’t…  
  
“Come on,” he says, his voice hoarse. “You can feel my load all over you, can't you? Inside you. I want to feel you too, Zach. Suck you clean after. Come on, come _on_ —”  
  
Zach draws in a quick, deep breath, and his hands contract where they are, around Chris’s neck and around their dicks. He lets out a long, quiet sigh, and Chris squirms at the feeling of warm, wet jizz swirling over his sensitive cockhead. Zach pulls him into an embrace and they stand there quiet, breathing each other in. Chris can feel Zach’s heartbeat start to decelerate.  
  
They’re still docked, although both of them are deflating.

“Ugh,” Zach says at last, and peels away from Chris. Their skin is sticky with sweat. He reaches between them and—  
  
“Disengaging the external inertial dampener,” Zach says with a snort.  
  
“Uh, hello? We had a deal. No sci-fi.”  
  
“Sorry.”  
  
Zach heads straight to the bathroom, where he grabs a washcloth and starts to clean himself down. Chris can see him because he left the door wide open.  
  
“Hey,” he calls out. “I told you I wanted to suck that clean.”  
  
Zach turns, a quizzical look on his face. “Oh. I kind of figured that was said, you know. In the heat of the moment.”  
  
Chris looks at him blankly, and then laughs. “Yeah. I was kidding, man. Can you throw me another cloth?”  
  
They clean up, and the atmosphere is weird. Not good-weird.   
  
Zach asks, “Curiosity satisfied?” and Chris just nods. “Awesome. My job here is done.” He starts to pull on his clothes again. Chris doesn’t.  
  
“Oh, yeah?” he says. He sits naked on the bed, legs open brazenly. “What about that ass-splitting I was promised?”  
  
Zach goes pink. “Aw, you know, man. I didn’t mean anything by it. It was just dirty talk.”  
  
“Just to get me off.”  
  
“Yeah. Just to get you off. You seemed to like it.”  
  
“Yeah. I guess I did.”  
  
“Are we…?” Zach doesn’t finish the question. He flaps a hand between them like a distressed bird.  
  
“Of course. We’re cool.”  
  
“I need to get some sleep,” Zach says, and follows up with a convincing yawn. “See you tomorrow?”  
  
Chris wants to ask him to stay.  _Stay and hold me all night. Keep me grounded like you do every day of the tour. Keep me docked. Keep me anchored._  
  
“Yeah, see you tomorrow. Sleep well, man.”  
  
“Oh, I will,” Zach says with a parting grin, and steps out.  
  
Chris waits until the door is safely closed behind him before he says, “Stay."


End file.
